


Comfort

by MorganaNK



Category: Inspector Lynley - All Media Types, Inspector Lynley Mysteries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 03:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8473000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganaNK/pseuds/MorganaNK
Summary: Tommy's thoughts and feelings as he races to save Barbara in "One Guilty Deed"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Property of Elizabeth George and the BBC, no copyright infringement intended

My heart was pounding in my chest; a mixture of adrenaline and pure panic. I followed Nicky as she ran across the marshland, terrified at what I might find.

In the distance I caught sight of Carly, her arm raised above her head, poised to strike a figure lying prostrate at her feet. I realised it was Barbara.

“No!”

Carly looked around, saw me, then rolled Barbara face down in the muddy water and ran away. I didn’t care; I could deal with her later. All that mattered now was Barbara.

I slid down next to her and lifted her face clear of the fetid pool.

“Come here, I’ve got you; I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

Barbara looked at me, her confusion evident. “What are you doing here?”

I smiled at her, brushing her hair back with my hand, “Nicky showed me the way.”

Barbara looked around, still appearing confused. I helped her to her feet, keeping my arm around her for support.

“You okay?”

She went to wipe her face with her sleeve, stopping when she realised that her clothes were covered in mud.

“Carly?”

She looked around again.

“Carly? Carly? CARLY?”

~*~

They had wanted to keep Barbara in hospital under observation because of her head injury but she had refused. I had agreed to take responsibility for her; promising that I would monitor her closely and call for medical assistance at the first sign of anything being amiss.

Since being discharged she had become withdrawn; any question receiving only a grunt in acknowledgement or a monosyllabic response. I was worried about her.

I followed her into the caravan, closing the door behind us. She slumped down on the couch and stared into the distance.

“Can I get you anything Barbara? Tea? Coffee?”

No response.

I put the keys down on the table and sat next to her.

“Talk to me Barbara, please. I want to help.”

She turned to face me, and it was then that I noticed the tears streaming silently down her face.

“Oh Barbara.”

I pulled her into my arms, easing us both back until we were half sitting, half lying on the couch. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, her hot tears scalding my flesh, her breathing erratic. I ran my hand up and down her back, my cheek resting against her hair while she cried herself out. Eventually her sobs lessened to nothing and her breathing evened out. I held her as she slept. Tonight I would keep her safe; tomorrow would be soon enough for talking.


End file.
